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groceries onto her lap and slid out of the car. The second her feet hit the driveway she heard the sounds of laughter echoing behind the cabin.
    Amy recognized Lorraine Mitchell as soon as she turned the corner. Their neighbor’s short white hair and tall lean physique looked exactly as it did a year ago. Lorraine was standing with both hands on her hips, a smile bordering on laughter aimed towards the wooded area behind the cabin. In that wooded area, a very wet Patrick was attempting to wash the Border terrier in a large metal wash basin while Carrie and Caleb looked on with great amusement.
    “Hi,” Amy said. Her voice was unsteady.
    Lorraine turned to Amy, her previous smile bordering on laughter now changing over to one of joy. She walked forward with arms outstretched for the impending hug. “Hello, Amy!”
    Amy set the groceries to the floor and hugged her neighbor with as much enthusiasm as her still-rattled mind would allow.
    Patrick’s head snapped up the second he heard his wife’s name called. He raised two soapy hands in the air as though a gun had been pulled on him. “Hi, baby, let me explain.”
    Amy pulled away from Lorraine. She spoke softly and motioned that Patrick should follow her into the cabin. “Can I talk to you for a second?”
    Patrick wiped his hands on his jeans and nodded. “Sure. Lorraine, can you watch the kids for a minute?”
    Lorraine nodded back but her smile had faded. She looked concerned as the couple entered the cabin.
    The second they were inside, Patrick started rambling like a guilty man. “Baby, let me explain. Lorraine says the dog is very safe and very friendly, and I figured if we gave him a bath—”
    Amy walked towards her husband and wrapped both arms around him in a tight embrace, silencing him. She started to cry.
     
    * * *
     
    “ Motherfucker, ” Patrick hissed through clenched teeth. “You’re sure it wasn’t our friend Arty?”
    Amy had stopped crying but her nose still ran. She sniffled and said, “No, his head was shaved.” She then held both hands out to the side as if measuring a pair of invisible shoulders. “And he was wider, broader.”
    Patrick took a steady breath, but his right fist was clenched at his side. “And you’re sure he was the one who left the rice packets?”
    “Well who else would it have been, Patrick?”
    Her intolerance was justified, and he didn’t dare question her tone. He spoke his next query in an even manner. “Okay, okay…I’m just wondering how the hell he knew which car was yours.”
    “I have absolutely no idea. My only guess is that he’d been watching me from the moment I entered the store. Maybe even followed me there, I don’t know.”
    Patrick went rigid the second his wife voiced her speculation. “Followed you? From where? Here ?”
    “I don’t know. Maybe.”
    “Do you remember anyone following you when you left the lake?”
    Amy dropped her head and shook it. She didn’t remember anyone.
    Patrick’s right fist clenched tighter, the knuckles glowing white. “Son of a bitch must have clocked you when you pulled into the supermarket then.”
    “I want to leave,” she said, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. “I think we should leave. First we get the weirdo with the gas and the doll, and now this? It’s like bad karma or something. I think we should just pack up and leave.”
    Patrick shook his head emphatically. “ No. We’ve been here less than three friggin’ hours. I’m not gonna let a couple of assholes ruin our trip.”
    “Then what do we do, Patrick? Wait for something else to happen?”
    “Nothing else will happen. I won’t let it.” He reached out for both of her hands. She took them, but did not go in for the hug.
    “He was so creepy, Patrick. So…sure of himself. I mean, I’ve met some strange men before, but this guy…there was something different about him. Something… wrong .”
    Patrick played his role, swallowing his own rage. “Baby, relax, you’re